


rarely pure and never simple

by tastinglove



Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Ballroom Dancing, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Modern Royalty, Royalty, Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastinglove/pseuds/tastinglove
Summary: Harry is a Duke. James is a Baron. They meet somewhere in the middle.





	rarely pure and never simple

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back!  
> I....do not have an explanation for why I decided to write this. I just knew that I wanted to.  
> Might as well share with all of you  
> Have at it! 
> 
> Title from The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde: "The truth is rarely pure and never simple"

                                                                                    

The ruffles belonging to the soft cream colored button up tickled his adam’s apple. His arms glid into the lined fabric of the suit jacket now resting on his shoulders with a nice weight, the dark blue lightly shimmering in the setting sun radiating through the large windows.

His reflection covered the full length oak framed mirror leaning against the pristine wall. Eyes travelling down to the minutely sinched in waist and his legs, seeming longer than usual, in the midnight sky challenging shade. The belt blending in with everything else and even the sparkling silver of the buckle matching with the eyelets of his deep brown shoes.

 With a sigh Harry ran a hand through his hair, deliberately messing up the too meticulate gel styling. He smiled when a couple of strands became loose and dropped down lower onto his forehead, framing his face in a way that he liked. He watched as his own expression immediately dimmed when his eyes fell upon his fingers. His empty, bare fingers. The fourth one on his left hand, its pale skin at the base just waiting to be covered and decorated. At least according to his father.

_~ 1 month earlier  ~  
_

 

One of Tony’s personal assistants, Michael, apologized for interrupting him during his reading session to announce that his dear father wished to speak with him in private. It was one of those moments where everything he had ever done wrong to possibly anger or displease his dad went through his head immediately. The _"I need to talk to you"_ or _"I need to ask you something"_ kind that got your anxiety running undoubtedly every single time.

Harry had a good enough relationship with his father. After his mother had left when he was still a little toddler to pursue a different life, an inevitable bond formed between them over the years. The woman who had given birth to him, Tessie, was not of any royal descent. She had entered a tumultuous romance with Tony, not knowing anything about him. As their relationship went on for more months, the truth bomb was dropped on her about Tony Hutchinson being the Duke of Hollyoaks Hall. She still stayed with him. Whether it was despite of it or because of it at that point in time...Harry didn't know.

The pregnancy wasn’t planned but they still tried to make it work. Tessie faced the scorn of the public’s older generation for bearing them a future heir outside of a marriage. Their little makeshift family lived in the royal residence for two years until his father proposed. Harry wasn’t sure if Tony ever loved her or if he simply felt like making the best out of the situation and maybe even giving her some sort of compensation for how she had been forced to change her life. A week later the pearlescent diamond ring was left behind on the kitchen table, gone were all of his mother’s things. A month later a letter arrived with her offering her condolences for leaving them behind. It was not a case of ‚see you later’ though, it was a goodbye.

That’s the story he got told when he turned 10. The next few years of his teenage life were spent in large rooms filled to the top with expensive things that still couldnt erase the emptiness from those four walls. House maids, assistants, butlers and teachers by his side.The one person missing was his dad. Now busy being the head of the dukedom while keeping up the image of a perfectly content modern single father professionally available for all residents.

When Harry was 16, Tony caught him with his pants down and a male ambassador on his knees between his thighs. After the initial embarrassment and following heartfelt but simultaneously uncomfortable coming out talk...things were okay. Tony didn’t care that he was gay. And while he never suffered through the worst sexuality crisis, the comfort that came from that meant more than he could ever say.

And when almost two years later Tony let it slip at a press conference that his son would be looking for a husband rather than a wife now that he had come off age...the world still didn’t crumble or come to an end. Sure, there were the occasional jabs and quips during formal dinners about which designer would get to design his wedding dress when the time was ripe. But if anyone dared to express a more vicious form of homophobia, the duke himself, his security and the press on their side would make sure to tear him to pieces so that they and their like minded peers could only perform their sick discrimination in the comfort of their own home, away from Harry. He was more than content with that.

Now, Harry didn’t really date. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t want to. It was just really hard to find other interesting guys who just happened to also be interested in guys, okay? He shared the occasional snog with the head chef’s son slash apprentice but they both knew their connection was probably based more on a physical than an emotional level.

So far he had mostly been able to dodge any potential suitors for a marriage allegiance that his father or other advisors may have tried to throw his way. "I’m focusing on my studies", he would say. ‘I want to make sure it’s with the right person to create a stable union for the future of this county", he would memorize. In reality, he simply wasn’t interested in being married off to some sleezy or snobby aristocrat who was only interested in his fortune or ass – or both.

He somehow had a feeling change was in the air now though as he walked down the long marbled corridor to his father’s suite.

Michael’s white gloved hand knocked twice on the cherrywood door.

“Come in.”, Tony’s voice echoed into the hallway. The door was opened for him and he – albeit a bit reluctantly- stepped through with his arms crossed behind his back.

His roughed up grey sneakers a stark contrast to the huge soft cream carpet covering the floor space. His father sat on the large black leather sofa towards the right corner of the room, left to him his prominent dark oak desk covered by a smooth glass surface, shining in the dim afternoon lighting. “Thank you, Michael. You may leave. Harry, son, come sit down next to me, will you?”

The heavy door fell shut just as Harry sat down, pulling one leg up and crossing it over onto his thigh, trying to get somewhat comfortable.

“Everything alright?”, Tony tried to start off the conversation.

“Yeah, yeah. Everything’s…fine. Great.”

“Good. Harry, I wanted to talk to you about something today. Something a bit more serious.” And it’s not like he didn’t see that coming. It’s just that he’d much rather focus on the flimsy thread of the sofa seam his fingers were currently playing with. He bit his lower lip before he answered.

“I kind of figured since you had Michael bring me here instead of just…you know…telling me whatever this is about with a mouth full of crisps while watching the footie match.” It probably was a bad attempt at lightening up the mood, but Tony’s mouth turned upwards into a smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled up in amusement.

“You know me all too well, son.” The soft expression stayed on his face yet he furrowed his brow just ever so slighty. Harry sat close to him which was the only reason he even noticed it. Tony seemed completely calm otherwise. “I have a feeling you’re not going to like what I’m about to say. And you should know that this choice wasn’t an easy one. Because I love you and I just want what’s best for you.”

They’ve shared similar talks like this in the past. Three years ago when there was an opportunity in the air for Harry to pursue football on a scholar ship level in the US, his dad had sat him down and explained that there were things that people like them – Dukes and sons of Dukes- just couldn’t do. Like give up their education in English and law to kick a ball around for money. He didn’t speak to Tony for almost a week afterwards, moping in his room. He understood the situation, but he obviously wasn’t happy about it. It felt like history was about to repeat itself.

“I know that, dad.” The words were mumbled out sincerely but he was trying to push the nervousness building in his chest.

“Good. I hope you’ll still feel the same after we’re done talking.” His father breathed out loudly through his nose and his sigh filled the short silence between them. “Look son, I’m not getting any younger. And while my health is doing fine and things are going smoothly in general….you just never know…you know?” Harry did know. Oh boy did he know where this was going.

“Dad I-“

“Please just let me explain. I love being a Duke. It’s quite literally what I was born for. Born into. And I wouldn’t want to change a thing about it. You have to know that the one thing…the only thing that I love more than it is you.” Tony’s words seem too loud and too much in the otherwise blurry quietness in his periphery of the suite. He didn’t know what to do with them. “And I’ve also had the absolute joy of seeing you grow up, seeing you become the young man that you are now. See how passionate you are when you talk about improving laws and the life of the people in our realm.” Harry can hear himself swallowing, his eyes going back to the soft fabric his right hand is still playing with. His skin is no longer dry, but sweaty.

“They’re just…stupid ideas, dad.”, he replied. He really wasn’t a fan of boasting himself up. He didn’t have a problem cheering for himself after a nice goal but receiving compliments from anyone for voicing his opinion in the law and leadership departments? It made him squeamish. What did he know? About anything? He was twenty years old, really just starting to focus on these subjects on a deeper level education wise and god…him talking about official duke business must sound like a toddler talking about trigonometey – neither should be taking very seriously. Right?

“But they’re not!”, Tony answered with fond exasperation. “I’m in awe every time you talk about LGBT rights and helping families who are non traditional, supporting single parents…Harry, I….I’m so proud of you. I wish you could see it. I wish you could see how brilliant you are. You bring up topics that I don’t even think about it. And that means you are absolutely essential for our dukedom. That means you are our future. And that I shouldn’t be in the way for too much longer.”

“You’re not in the way”, the words tumbled out before Harry had even registered them. He was glad though. They needed to be said and Tony had to hear them. He’d been the Duke for decades, there was a reason the people loved and respected him.

“Oh you know what I mean. And it’s not like I’m going anywere soon but…I want you to have more influence. I want you to be prepared and ready to take over should the situation ever arise. And I don’t want you to have to do that alone.”

He didn’t like where this was going at all.

“Well…Good thing I have you then. And Mr. Effing.” The latter was Harry’s long time teacher. He’d been there for him as an academical and personal guide since primary school vocabulary tests up to juridicial essays that made his hands cramp from writing too much.

“You’re right. Of course, you do have us but this time around I was thinking more along the lines of….a partner.”

See, it wasn’t like Harry was completely caught off guard by Tony suggesting this. Ever since he had turned 18, his dad had hinted at how wonderful and beneficial an engagement could be for him both as a person and political figure. Introduced him to other sons of Dukes, Lords and Barons. Some of them were pretty enthusiastic meeting him, others seemed to share his situation of their father meddling. They weren’t even all bad but…none of them made Harry hear wedding bells. He sometimes thought that Tony just wanted a different life for him than he had lead. One with a permanent somebody by his side. Cemented by a ring and a certificate. He didn’t know if his father ever wished to get married himself, he certainly wasn’t shy about sharing affections with socialite women. Maybe marriage represented an ideal of security for Tony that he himself had never achieved and desperately wanted for his son.

Harry couldn’t be mad about it…he just wished those things could happen on his own terms. When he thought about his future, he did see a husband by his side. What he didn’t see was his father marrying him off.

“Listen, Dad, I….I get the sentiment, really, but-“

“No buts this time, Harry. I’ve tried to ease you into this idea over the years and it’s clear you’re still reluctant about the whole thing but…as a father I would never want you to do something or be with someone who makes you unhappy. As the Duke, however, I would like for you to get married.”

Despite knowing what was coming, he practically felt the color drain from his face. His first instinct was to tell him off immediately, to accuse Tony of _how dare he could ask that of him,_ _how he was his only son and…didn’t that mean something to him_? The look on Tony’s face dwelled his anger almost immediately though. There was an honesty displayed that calmed him down. He knew that look from whenever he had gone a bit off the rails during his earlier teenage years. Once he had gotten so drunk with vodka lemon bottles smuggled into his room that he had then tumbled down the stairs, spraining his ankle, into one of the hosting dining areas to promptly throw up on the newly imported carpet – right infront of the French embassy chewing their glazed roasted duck. The story spread quickly into the press over the following days. Tony had reprimanded him and reminded him of his position with the same look he was wearing now – a mixture of his strictness as a leader and the worry of a caring father as he handed him an aspirin and a glass of water.

“Do I have any say in this?”, he asked. How much of this had Tony already planned out without him knowing? How much leeway was there left?

“Of course you do, don’t be ridiculous. I want you to choose. Choose the person you want to marry, choose when and where and how. I wouldn’t dream of taking that away from you. I just think that you…need a little bit of a push.”

“A little bit of a push? Is that what we're calling a marriage of convenience in 2018?”, he couldn’t help but scoff. Ok so…sue him. Residual bitterness lingered his stomach. The sooner he spat it out, the better for both of them really. Tony’s sigh that followed showed that he probably didn’t quite agree with that attitude.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Harry.”

“Don’t…I…I just wish things were different.” He wished he wasn’t royal. He wished the public didn’t yearn for a strong couple as their leaders. He wished the conservatives of them didn’t think he owed them a marriage to at least keep some form of tradition alive. Tony would never say those things out loud. And neither would Harry himself. These thoughts were most of the time easier to deal with when they were shoved far, far away.

“I know.”, Tony whispered, laying his hand on top of his knee and rubbing the spot in soothing circles. That’s how they were, sometimes. Things might be left unsaid but they still understood eachother.

“So…what’s the big plan then?” His answer earned him a smile and his father moved his hand to pat him on his right shoulder.

“That’s better. We are hosting a courting weekend, planned to take place one month from now. It’ll start off with a beautiful ball and dinner on the first evening and a lovely brunch followed by some activities and later a brunch outside. Plenty of opportunities for you to get to know someone, strike up a conversation. Get wooed and charmed like you deserve to be.”

“And then?” He hated that he secretely felt a bit excited hearing his dad’s plan. He liked parties – if they weren’t too formal. This sounded like something he could actually enjoy despite probably getting grumpy about having random guys he had never met suddenly be interested in him. At least there would be food…and alcohol.

“And then, after the second final dinner….I’d be very happy if you found someone you deem suitable so that I can meet and talk to the lucky guy on my own.” Harry wet his dry lips with his tongue. This was crazy. Absolutely crazy. He was supposed to find his future fiancée and husband within a matter of two days. Then why on earth was he still somehow looking forward to the whole thing?

“You know this isn’t a Disney movie, right dad? What if the guy I like…doesn’t end up being interested in me?”, he was shy about admitting that particular insecurity out loud. What did Harry really have to offer? Except for wealth and status that his suitors would undoubtedly possess on their own already.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, son. I’m sure whoever catches your eye won’t be able to resist you. You do have my charm and good looks after all.” Tony joked with a jab to his side. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Is that a smile I’m seeing?” His grin only widened at that.

“Nope, totally not.”, he replied with fake pursed lips.

“Well then it totally wouldn’t sour the mood if I sent you off with some paperwork, right?” Tony stretched out his arm to grab something from his desk. An impressive tower of what looked like envelopes. Harry took them from him and felt the textured cardboard paper under his fingertips.

“These are all the invitations we’re sending out to the eligible bachelors that I preselected based on appropriate age and titel. There are fifty of them. I’d like you to sign them so we can send them out tomorrow.”

“Shall I add a little heart or a nice xoxo at the end?”, Harry quipped satcastically while slowly standing up to head back to his suite. He was glad the air in the room finally felt lighter again. He felt the muscles in his shoulder relax.

“I think your name will do for now.”, Tony answered with a smile on his face that Harry was sure mirrored his own. It looked soft and just as he was about to turn around towards the door, Tony pulled him into a warm hug. He sunk completely into his arms, resting his head on his father’s shoulder. Everything was going to be alright. That feeling followed him all the way back to his chamber and he walked the hallway back with a much better mood than he had arrived in.

_ ~ _ _ ~ _ _ ~ _

Deep blue ink was scribbled onto the pristine white papers as he sat at his mahogany desk near the window. The sheer size of the desk often made him feel ridiculous, like a child playing boss and pretending to step into his father’s shoes. Now it seemed like the time of pretending was almost over.

He went through the cards, recognizing some names of the addresses and having never heard of others. Numerous ones sounded ridiculously over the top British once he rolled them over his tongue out loud, five first names of royal hierarchy and military titles he was sure he would never be able to remember. Another few he could barely pronounce at all based on their obvious old Irish and Gaelic history.

And then he stumbled upon a name that made him stop writing immediately. A tiny gasp even left his mouth. James Nightingale. Subconsciously he traced the cursive writing with his fingertips. The Nightingales were one of the oldest and most influential families in the North. Marnie Nightingale was the one currently in the leading position as the Baroness. She was often depicted as a cold hearted business woman in the press but for some reason Harry refused to buy into it. What he saw was a smart and calculating mother who only wanted privacy and protection for her three children – James, Ellie and Alfie.

Now, the Nightingale juniors didn’t shy away from the public. Not even after the mysterious death of their father Mac almost a year ago now. The man had been notorious for his aggressive outburts and downright homophobic comments about his own son. It was fair to say Harry was glad that man no longer held any political influence.

James on the other hand….he’d sort of been an idol throughout Harry’s teenage years. He was openly gay, incredibly intelligent, had gotten his law degree at Harry’s dream elite school and was heavily involved in LGBT focused charities and cases others refused to tackle – it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes either. The eldest Nightingale child shared a similar reputation to his mother in that he was usually strictly professional and often accused of putting on a fake persona. Harry found it all fascinating. And if those taped videos of James destroying someone in court turned him on….well – no one had to know. He’d never had the opportunity and pleasure to meet him…would the luck be in his favour this time? He doubted it. Couldn’t imagine someone like James would ever be interested in him. The other man was probably ten years his senior and at a completely different point in his life. Chances were high he’d simply ignore the invitation altogether.

Rumours were Ellie was desperate to get settled down and tie the knot as well. It was ridiculously unlikely that both of them would be looking for fiancées at the same time, right? To his knowledge, James himself had only dated publicly once. A guy named John Paul, who infamously stole from their royal collection before taking off and leaving the country. He wouldn’t be surprised if that scarred James away from relationships for a while….or forever. He had to admit that he would probably close himself off completely if he ever got wronged and humiliated like that. His admiration and respect for the older man however only grew after the incident, because he seemed like he didn’t let it destroy him.

Alfie Nightingle and him had crossed paths a few years ago. The boy was around Harry’s age and they ended up being paired into the same team during a charity football match. He seemed like a good kid, down to earth, if a bit shy. People told him it was the sign of him being the spoiled and sheltered youngest child but Harry again only saw a mother and sibling duo taking care of a loved one.

He stared at the name infront of him for a creepily long amount of time if he ever were to confess it out loud. He imagined what their two names would look like merged together. _Harry Nightingale. Harry Thompson-Nightingale. James Thomp-_

“Jesus get it together.”, he breathed out to finally pull himself out of his daze. Harry was totally not a school girl with a crush, playing MASH on a note book. He really should stop acting like one.

Signing the card with a sigh and pushing it aside, he moved on to the next one.

_~_ Now _~_

Quickly gliding his hands down the the soft fabric of his pants to get rid of the tiny amount of nervous induced sweat, Harry grabbed the amber colored perfum bottle from the vanity table near by. He sprayed the golden nozzle of the rounded glass container to spread the lovely scent of bergamot, cinnamon and subtle ginger onto his neck and wrists.

Perfumes were a weird thing, weren’t they? How they could instantly make you feel better…more confident. He still felt like he was breathing too heavily, pacing back and forth infront of the white painted door, waiting for Michael to knock so he could walk down into the foyer infront of the big ball room where Tony was waiting to introduce him to all the guests with a round of champagne.

The month had passed by in a heartbeat. Tony and all assistants as well as additionally hired event planning staff were constantly asking him for his opinion. _Which food would you like to have served for the fourth course? Which music should be played during the second dance? What kind of outdoor activities should be planned for the second day?_ _Badminton or boccia?_ The choices and questions were endless. And while he was glad that he got a say in all of it, he definitely was more interested in what sort of cake they would serve than what colour the lanterns for the trees in the backyard garden should be.

He was lost in thoughts, running over every detail for this party he was aware of, pretending like he was in control of every situation possible at once while fumbling with his his metal cufflinks when he heard two knocking sounds against the wooden door. Both excitement and panic instantly filled his chest and stomach.

“Come in.”, he called out, trying to control his voice. Right, it was time to be put together.

Michael gently opened the door with a genuine happy expression on his face, his black tuxedo looking as flawless as usual.

“Duke Thompson and your guests are ready for you, Sir.” There was a split second where sounded like a brat in his own head _"What about me? Do these people care if I’m ready?_". He quenched the thought immediately while swallowing.

“Thank you, Michael.”, he answered with a small nod of his head. For an awkward couple of seconds neither of them said anything before Michael opened the door a little wider, stepped to the side and cleared his throat to ask. “Shall we?”

Harry gladly took the hint. “Yes, of course.” He stepped through the door and towards the marbled steps leading down to a room filled with strangers. He could already hear Tony’s voice as he got closer and closer, his dad was good at entertaining guests, keeping them busy and in a good mood.

He had a flashback to the time he sprained his ankle and focused his eyes on his feet while he was still out of sight for everyone else. Once he reached his father, Michael stayed further back and Tony immediately pulled him a lot closer by his shoulders.

“Ah, there he is!”, he gleefully announced with a loud enthusiastic voice. “The man of the evening. I am beyond pleased and proud to introduce to you… my son, Duke Harry Thompson!” There was a round of applause and he already felt weird his name alone was being cheered on like that, eventhough he knew it was only part of proper etiquette.

Harry tried to smile and stare straight ahead, a sea off unknown people infront of him, faces washing together – some handsome ones sticking out. A nice ginger quiff with beautiful pink lips. Blond hair paired with a rugged looking equally blond beard and pale skin. Deep brown skin framed by adorable looking black curls.

Tony’s hand on his right shoulder blade quite literally squeezed him out of his staring. Shit…his mouth hadn’t been gaping, had it? Quite frankly it was unfair to have all these gorgeous men standing infront of him, practically at his disposal, and expect him not to react im some kind of way. He was a twenty year old gay guy growing up behind castle walls…he could tell you a thing or two about sexual frustration.

“Harry, would you like to say something?” _No._

“Yes”, he breathed out. “I am…unspeakably flattered that so many of you have shown up to this weekend being held in my name and taken time out of your busy lives to celebrate with us. It means more than I can express. I think I can speak on behalf of my father too when I say that we are honored to herewith officially welcome you as our guests. Thank you and…enjoy your time here.” The sentences flowed out rather smoothly, he did have a lot of training in public speaking after all. It still wasn’t his favourite thing and contrary to popular belief it did not feel like it got easier every time but…he felt like he managed okay. Judging by the wide grin on Tony’s face, he seemed to agree. Their guests cheered and clapped again, probably happy the evening was finally about to properly commence.

One of the waitresses came up the couple of stairs to were him and his father were standing, handing them both a glass of champagne from her silver tray, the rim of the glasses decorated with golden flakes. Once Tony deemed that all of the guests had received a drink as well, he briefly turned towards Harry with another look of pride written all over his face before he faced the crowd again.

“To Harry!”, he cheered.

“To Harry!”, the crowd echoed back. This time he felt himself blush and he was glad for his first sip of alcohol of the night after the drinking cheer finally went through the room and Tony had clinked his glass.

He enjoyed the bubbles going down and tingling his throat, the liquid refreshingly cold. But it was not the carbonation that almost made him feel like he was choking as he took the glass from his lips, the last taste of his sip still in his mouth, no…it was something completely different. Someone.

Right there in the first row of people, where Harry had refused to look earlier – feeling slightly too flushed because of the idea of being watched by the guests standing closest too him – was no other than James Nightingale. And he was staring right back at him, looking as perfect as ever with a mischievous grin on his face.                                                                                                    

**Author's Note:**

> If you're not sick of my babbling yet after reading this, I'd like to address a couple of things.  
> 1) Your comments are what keeps me going as a writer. I'm looking forward to more of them as the majority of you have been incredibly kind to me. However, I received a couple ones that were...well a bit nasty. Directed at me because I'm writing for James/Harry instead of Ste/Harry. I'm not forcing anyone to read my work and I welcome constructive criticism but I decided to delete those comments in the end, mainly because they included some insults I'd rather not have under my chapters. If you don't like the ship I'm writing for, don't read please. Or at the very least don't let your anger out on me. Thank you.  
> 2) I didn't plan for this story to get anywhere near this long once I initially started writing it. Now I'm planning for it to be a three part chaptered story, hoping I'll be able to update the second chapter in a week, on February 13th. No promises though.  
> 3) Would any of you like for me to set up a twitter? I occasionally get questions about writing/progress and came to the conclusion twitter might be an easier place to communicate and chat more casually about Jarry/Hollyoaks/whatever. Let me know.


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